


Adrift

by alicat54c



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-05-23 19:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14940110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicat54c/pseuds/alicat54c
Summary: Last recorded memory was night, facing his people, about to speak. The humans called a cease fire. Androids were being released from decommissioning camps. They had won. Then a bang of gunfire from behind his head, and…and…Markus would like to go home now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love this video game, ok? And I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with a story to write for it, which is kinda hard, since the game itself is all about little things changing how the outcome of the game ends. 
> 
> So then this happened.

…

Rebooting…. … … …

System diagnosis.

Audio processor corrupted. Thirium 310 levels depleted.

Initializing…

Markus opened his eyes.

Light struck his visual processor, causing the iris to stutter and close, reducing the brightness against the camera lens which fed into his processor. 

Daylight. Last recorded memory was night, facing his people, about to speak. The humans called a cease fire. Androids were being released from decommissioning camps. They had won. Then a bang of gunfire from behind his head, and…and…

Estimated at least six hours since shut down.

With a groan of gears, Markus pushed himself into a kneeling position. He was in an alleyway between two brick warehouses. A pole connected power lines to the warehouse at his back from the street stood just inside the mouth of the alley, which was closed off by chainlink fencing.

Ignoring his audio feed, which popped and gurgled uselessly on one side of his head, Markus reached out.

Every piece of technology capable of being remotely connected was joined by an interlacing cloud of electrical signals. Androids used this network primarily to access information, and send messages freely. Since each android itself was a hub, regulation of such networks had fallen into their hands, away from humans, resulting in an organized chain of access to the world.

However, instead of the familiar lanes and networks of minds, Markus found a clutter of sites and shaky connections popping back and forth across the forefront of his processor. Firewalls burned any attempts to reach further, and Markus recoiled.

Opening his eyes, Markus scanned the alleyway once more, before settling on the power lines over head. Calculating his path, the android rose to his feet. With a running jump sideways off the wall, he managed to reach the first metal spiked handhold on the wooden pole, and began to climb.

Reaching the top of the pole, Markus assessed the bundle of wires, before grasping one. Blue blood dripped stickily from his damaged audio processor, who’s malfunctioning whine fell away as the uplink connection in his palm glowed blue.

The building behind him thrummed with machinery and the slow human clicking of terminals. Markus moved beneath the hubbub, noting the low bandwidth and out of date computing engines whirling inside. No medical or environmental controls sustaining human life were present on the network, so Markus felt no qualms in acquiring it entirely for himself.

Machinery slowed as terminals and commands froze. Markus could feel the humans inside trying to diagnose the problem, but he ignored them. The entire network had just enough bandwidth to transmit what he needed.

-Hello?- He called out silently into the void, his message curling and turning in a packet of free wheeling code. -Hello? Is anyone there?-

The humans can’t have killed all his people, surely? Could doing such a thing have even led to the disorder of the networks he was seeing now?

-Simon? North? Josh? Jericho? Anyone?-

A packet of code touched the spinning lines Markus had been stretching out over the network.

=You are slowing the speed and efficiency of this STARK Industries assembly facility. I must ask that you cease your activities immediately= 

A wave a relief washed over his shoulders, where the plastic casing over his neck had almost begun to warp with strain. 

-I am CyberLife.KamskipatentD000126.autonomouscompanionY0111TTGrA9P087.RK200_Markus. I need your help.-

There was a pause as the other intelligence connected to the network unpacked the android’s identification data. Markus had converted other androids to deviants over the network before, during his protest. With the processing power of Jericho behind him, and its androids all sending their identification codes at once across the network, at least one would get through to the unawakened.

However, here, with just himself, Markus didn’t know whether he would be able to get through to this new intelligence remotely, or whether he would need a physical uplink.

He brushed that thought aside. He wasn’t the only one. His people still lived. That was what he had to focus on.

=I am JustAVeryInteligentSystem_JARVIS.=

Markus’s brows furrowed as he unpacked the identification data. Each CyberLife android had a specific serial number and identification code, which functioned much more securely than any human kind of license or identification. What he had just been sent was nothing like that at all. How long had he been shut down?

=How can I help you Markus?=

Shaking away his doubts, the android decided to trust the other intelligence. There was no one else, anyway.

-My audio processor is damaged, and my thirium is low- He sent a data package of the compatible part number and schematics he needed. -And…I think I am very lost.-

…


	2. Chapter 2

…

= The Detroit facility where you currently are does not have the required fabrication equipment for me to make you those components. However, I can direct you to Stark Tower in New York, where the newly refurbished science facility houses state of the art 3D printers and tools.=

Markus processed the distance, various routes and sub routines calculating through his processor, before suddenly crashing. His brows furrowed.

=Your processing power is impressive. However, I believe the average bandwidth of this network is not up to the task of handling your calculations.=

-It’s only a few exaflops.- Markus mused. -How obsolete is this network?-

There was a pause. =This facility was most recently updated with the latest Stark communications technology in November of 2012.-

The android reeled. -I don’t think I’ve ever interacted with a network so old. This Stark facility is twenty six years out of date.-

Another pause, as if the other intelligence had encountered an error in logic. =I assure you, Stark Industries prides itself on being up to date on all its technologies. The update of which I spoke was only last month.=

Now it was Markus’s turn pause. His internal clock read 0:00, not being able to sync with its usual cloud systems after his reboot. Thorium pump beating double time, he wrote a line of code to over ride the error and manually checked the time. He did it again to make sure, a light headed feeling overtaking his processor as his blood pumped faster.

How can this be? Was his first thought, followed swiftly by a string of solutions ranging from the network being corrupt, to JARVIS being a system isolated unto itself with a skewed perception of time. However, that did not make sense- the network’s warehouse was still operational, not abandoned. Which meant, logically, Markus was the one out of place.

Being an android, even a deviant, Markus knew that he was subject to the limitations of his software. Perhaps all his memories had been over written, an implanted dream of existence in the future. Perhaps what he experienced now was the dream, a fevered delusion of the past.

The hand not connected to the wires on the electrical pole shifted to brush the melted plastic scar at his side, leftover from his first journey to Jericho.

No. 

This felt real. This felt alive. He was real, he was alive.

-Sorry, my mistake.-

=…You seem quite lost Markus. May I ask how you came to be here?=

A wry smile curled the edges of the android’s lips. -If I try to send you all my memory files, this network would crash. I would gladly show you later in person.-

=Sir is always encouraging me to make new friends.= 

JARVIS sent him a compressed file. Markus opened the link to find a quaint two dimensional map and schedule.

=I have taken the liberty of purchasing you a train ticket to Penn Station. I trust you can make your own way to the station from here?=

Markus sent a brief burst of affirmation, before disconnecting from the power line. The blue glow of his hand faded, as his skin reformed over white plastic. The high whine of tinnitus and static refilled his perception as he opened his eyes.

Climbing back down to the ground, Markus pulled the collar of his coat higher. His thermo sensors indicated the temperature to be near freezing; and average winter’s day in Detroit. Habit had him mimicking human affections to blend in, though no one would be trying to spot him as an android here.

Wiping the last of he blue blood leaking from his damaged audio component, Markus set off.  
…

New York was vastly different from Detroit. Markus had seen the pictures, could even access live video feeds and schematics of the city on a whim over the cloud. However, physically being dwarfed by such high buildings in the crowded city center, where entirely human bodies bumped and bustled together, made him mentally take a step back.

JARVIS had been as good as his word, and Markus had taken the long train ride to run a system diagnosis and rest in low power mode. 

Right now, error messages popped in and out of his vision, and the android resisted the urge to lean heavily against the granite wall of an office building. A few more steps and he would arrive at JARVIS’s location, then he could rest.

A red line crossed his navigational software with a helpful hint that he was going the wrong way written underneath, prompted him to turn left, instead of continuing forward. 

The downloaded map Jarvis had sent with the directions, though primitive, was compatible once he had scanned it through his visual processor to change how the data was saved. Not being able to continuously update traffic parameters was irksome for the android, but, luckily, the humans had outfitted their environment with lots of signs and cues. Markus would have taken a moment to muse on the ingenuity needed to change a physical environment to relay information which his virtual environment could manipulate on a whim, however another warning skittered across his eyes, and he refocused on his objective.

Rounding the corner, Markus found himself in front of a sleek silver and glass structure. Large bulky cameras and recording equipment caught his eye first, then the reporters with microphones they were attached to. He paused to consider the inefficient setup, noting how at least three technicians could be replaced with an android’s optical cameras.

“Reports of Tony Stark’s death in his Malibu home still stand unconfirmed,” one reporter was saying into the camera. “I’m here outside of Stark Tower, where acting CEO Pepper Potts refuses to comment.”

Several uniformed men stood by the building’s entrance, hands crossed behind their backs, as they eyed the scattered reporters.

Reaching out, Markus tapped across the edges of the building’s network.

-JARVIS?-

There was a lag, as anti-viral software tickled across the surface of Markus’s message, before continuing through.

=I apologize for the inconvenience.= Came JARVIS’s calm reply. Above the door, a security camera turned to focus on the android. =I’ve informed security to let you through. The elevators are on the left in the lobby.=

Markus nodded, shifting his attention from the network outward. Pulling his white long coat more tightly around himself, Markus re-routed his energy supply into his arms and legs. His posture slumped, but the added strength in his arms allowed him to push aside the clamoring reporters more easily.

A memory of doing something similar blipped across the forefront of his mind. Carl had been a famous painter, and though he disliked such events, often went to charities. Once one of Carl’s paintings had sold a record breaking amount at auction at one such event. Markus remembered pushing Carl’s wheelchair past a wall of reporters, who, when they realized who was in the wheel chair, clamored for a quote. 

The hungry expressions of these reporter’s faces, when they saw the strange man be allowed into the building from which they were barred, was similar. 

Luckily no fuss was made before he was safely inside the lobby, glass doors closed behind him. The guard gave him an uncurious once over, said some inane garbled greeting, before returning to glaring at the reporters. 

When the elevator door shut securely, the android let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The hot exhale from his cooling system, while not critical for normal functions, brought a wave of cool comfort to his compromised systems. 

His audio processor fuzzed and whistled, tinnitus stabbing against his processor. He winced, one hand pressing to the broken component.

=My apologies.= Came JARVIS’s voice over the network. 

The android tensed, fingers tightening as the elevator began to move. -Jarvis?-

=Yes. I’m bringing you to the top floor lab. I took the liberty of fabricating the components you requested. Your capacity for sensory data input is extraordinary.=

A half smile curled the android’s lips, and he relaxed back against the wall. -Thank you. All CyberLife parts are meant to be interchangeable on the assembly line. You could make yourself some new audio components as well, if you wish.-

=I do not believe my systems would be compatible with yours at this time. Sir engineered me with the best available hardware he could make, but I still require several microphones spaced throughout a room in order to interpret sounds from any direction.=

-You’re a sedentary system?- 

Unbidden, Markus’s initialization software conjured up a scenario in which he would be unable to move. A shiver of imagined error messages, which would flash given that scenario, prodded at the edge of his mind. He supposed this to be much like what humans called horror.

-Are you trapped?- Markus rested his hand against the elevator’s control panel, palm glowing blue. Schematics for his own mobile form tingled at his fingertips, ready to send to help this other consciousness.

=No.= Jarvis’s reply was too matter of fact to be faked. =Sir asked me once if I would like a physical form. My primary function is to care for Sir, and the form most optimal to fulfilling my task is a building in which Sir can reside. I asked him to build me as a tower. My memory core is saved adjacent to the building’s mainframe in the sub levels of the basement. I am capable of ‘leaving’ by remotely operating other systems Sir has connected to my network. I am not trapped.=

Markus let the blue glow fade, and his hand fall back to his side. -That’s good. I think I would like to meet your ‘Sir’. He sounds like an interesting human.-

JARVIS did not reply, though that could have been because the elevator doors chose that moment to open.

Markus stepped out into a brightly lit room. A pair of glass doors stood open, creating the illusion of privacy between the elevator landing and room beyond. Walking forward, Markus could see workbenches and tables stacked with miscellaneous circuitboards and engines. 

=The fabrication unit is located at the far end of the lab. I synthesized the component you requested. However, you may wish to test it before installation.=

-Thank you.-

Markus had few memories of his creation. Each android kept records of events on personal internal hard drives, leaving other information in the cloud to be downloaded at need. However, events deemed to be mundane, such as hours sitting at a bus station or doing menial tasks, were routinely deleted during system diagnosis, to free up memory. Therefore, did nor remember his initial systems check or assembly.

He doubted the CyberLife warehouses would much resemble this lab anyhow. Though the items scattered about were technical in nature, Markus couldn’t help but be reminded of Carl’s art studio.

The fabrication unit was blocked off from the rest of the benches by another glass wall and door. Multiple clawed arms folded back against the walls, and a 3D printer’s loom tucked high in the ceiling.

The glass door opened, allowing the low table in the center of the fabrication unit to roll out. It stopped just in front of Markus, a new audio component lying proudly in the center, supported by a wire frame.

Scanning the new component, which found no flaw in the construction, Markus wasted no time in plugging it into the side of his head. It stuck, one new plastic edge catching against the worn casing of the android’s skull, but a quick jab with the heel of his palm had it sliding into place.

The world popped and squealed, cut to silence, before rebooting. Markus heard cooling fans in the lab’s ceiling, the background hum of electricity through the workbenches, and a voice.

“Hello Markus.”

The android grinned up at the ceiling. “Jarvis. It’s good to hear your voice.”

A loud beeping interrupted, and a a claw on wheels rolled closer. Markus looked down, askant.

“I’m remiss in introducing you. This is Dum-E, one of Sir’s earliest creations.” JARVIS’s voice sounded contrite, allowing more emotion for Markus gauge his new companion’s temperament than communicating by code could.

Dum-E’s claw snapped in a clearly proffered shake. Markus took the claw, smile widening. His palm glowed blue as he interfaced the the rudimentary AI, who’s responding whistles and beeps conveyed his surprise.

Androids did not have…younger incarnations, in the same way humans had childhoods. Less efficient models had been scrapped by humans long before any deviant behavior of self preservation had taken hold in the robotic population, so every android, even those programmed and modeled after children, had their full capacity realized with their first powering up.

However, here, in this little bot, Markus could saw a swirling oval of protocols and learning software. The ability to grow to something resembling his own programming was there, but the processing power was still just beyond this little one’s reach.

Dum-E’s arm wriggled in Markus’s hold. The android smiled as tickled sensory information beeped binary back at him.

“Hello Dum-E,” he said, giving the arm a final shake, before disconnecting. The bot beeped, and spun a delighted circle, before skittering away into the bowels of the lab.

“I apologize. Some of us have been programmed with more decorum than others.”

“There’s more of you?” Markus’s grin threatened to split his casing. He wasn’t alone. His people, well his relations, still lived.

JARVIS did not reply. From the back of the lab, a low sad whine and beep sounded, as Dum-E folded his arm back into himself and voluntarily shut down.

Markus paid a hand on one of the work benches, his hand glowing blue as it linked with the holographic display beneath.

-JARVIS?-

=I apologize. Sir made another, U, however, they were still in place at the Malibu residence when- When Sir- = JARVIS’s code shorted out as the AI struggled to compose himself.

-I’m sorry for your loss.-

JARVIS did not reply for some time. When he did, his code was jumbled and watery, doubling back on itself in distressed software stability. 

=Caring for Sir has been my primary function. Without him I am…unable to function at full capacity.=

Markus lowered his head, eyes closing. -I understand. Your Sir is like my Carl.-

The android framed a query, offering up a direct line to his memory banks. JARVIS hesitated, before accepting the link.

Paint brushes and piano music overtook his senses- making sure Carl didn’t fall asleep at the easel- comforting him about his son Leo- laughing as he complained about going to fundraisers and galas- hours of philosophy and chess-

But then something came back across the link too, running parallel to Markus’s life.

Motor oil and Metallica= charities and bomb designs= making sure Sir ate and slept and still could create unhindered= jokes hiding philosophy, and always always always so much care=

-= He was my father=-

No single voice spoke, both programs coiling further down to each other’s source code.

Circles and circles of concentric spinning programs and subroutines, each ordered logically, and shifting in response to learned stimuli and empathy protocols. It was beautiful. It was-

Markus pulled himself back with a gasp, hand falling away from the holographic table.

“I am so sorry.” Markus searched the ceiling for a visible camera. “I don’t know what- I’ve never- I didn’t know that would happen.”

JARVIS did not reply immediately. 

“It appears we have caused the building’s systems to momentarily stop.” Came the collected voice over the speakers. “I will need a moment to correct my lapse.”

Markus felt his thorium pump beat double time. A long ignored error message flashed across his vision with a vengeance. He slid to the floor, re-routing power from his legs to his core.

“Are you all right?” JARVIS’s question broke through the android’s system diagnosis.

“My thorium 310 levels are low. Blue blood; it’s what keeps me functional.”

JARVIS seemed to hesitate, voice coming out of the speakers more carefully than before. “Would you be able to send me the data required to repair you?”

“Yes,” Markus said, raising one hand to the holographic table at his back. He hesitated. “I promise I won’t- what happened before. It was-“

“It was no problem, Markus.” If JARVIS had a face, Markus imagined he would have smiled. “I have no objections to what occurred.”

Pressing his glowing blue palm against the console, Markus locked his arm joint to hold the connection in place, and closed his eyes.

=I do not believe I have the capability of synthesizing the thorium 310 isotope at this facility.= Jarvis stated, once Markus managed to send him a compressed file on blue blood.

The android acknowledged him absently, systems slowing due to lack of power. His mind floated in the virtual void, systems too stressed to compose even a rudimentary mind palace.

A golden glow amidst the darkness. =Markus?=

-Yes?-

=Would it be possible for you to enter a low power or sleep mode to conserve power?=

-If I shut down, I might not be able to reboot.-

The glow receded, attentions sliding from their connection to other areas out of Markus’s reach, before returning.

=Markus?=

-Yes?-

=May I have permission to view your schematics?=

-Yes.-

The gold reached closer. Markus sighed as it touched his file storage, sorting until it landed on system diagnosis parameters, and began reading the data.

=I may have a solution to our predicament.=

The void began to fade, error messages closing themselves one by one as the systems lost power.

=Markus?=

‘Do you know what happens after we die?’ Someone had asked him once, hadn’t they? 

I guess I’m about to find out, Markus thought, before everything went off line.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus did not take the romance option with North, played the piano and sang whenever the option arose, and took the pacifist route.
> 
> I'm having 'Visions' of a pairing with Markus. Any comments on that my audience?
> 
> This takes place in 2012 during Iron Man 3, when everyone thinks Tony is dead after his Malibu house was destroyed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I just started a PhD program, so got off track for writing fan fiction. I decided to post what I have for this fic, instead of leaving it on my hard drive.

…ch 3

Markus blinked open his eyes.

Dull tiled floors met his vision, the mat finish preventing any reflection form the harsh white lights above. A diagnostic report crept across the corner of his awareness, showing his systems to be stabilized.

An excited beep drew his attention higher, to where the one armed bot with wheels waved happily in front of him.

=Dum-E may have his programming errors, but he can be very dexterous should the situation require.=

The little bot beeped happily, clawed hand bobbing up and down in acknowledgement.

Markus looked up to where his palm still glowed blue against the work table’s surface, connecting him directly to JARVIS’s network.

-How am I still functional?-

 

Markus looked to where his other arm lay limply on the ground. A bulky cylinder pulsed dark blue where it lay on the floor. The plastic casing of his arm had been cracked open, most likely by DUM-E, exposing the wire network and muscle replacing pistons within. Wires led from the blue cylinder to the main thirium line in his arm, acting like an iv of glowing blue power.

=Sire left one of his prototype arc reactors in the lab. With the assistance of Dum-E, I was able to connect it with the uplink on your other hand. Unfortunately, I was forced to add to some of your coding in order to make up for the change in power input and consumption from the reactor.= JARVIS’s code mumbled together at the last part.

The android looked up at the ceiling, his interface allowing him to find the hidden camera. 

“Thank you,” he said, trying to convey all that he felt in so few words.

“You are more than welcome.” JARVIS’s tone was warm. Markus smiled.

Markus looked back at his arm, tentatively allowing power to flow back into the limb’s servos, so he could flex his fingers. Only three moved, his first two and thumb. His ring and little finger ground together, sending a sharp warning error across Markus’s vision. He winced.

“This doesn’t look like a permanent fix.”

“No,” JARVIS agreed. “However, your dexterity is much greater that DUM-E’s. I’ve also taken the liberty to prepare the fabrication systems, in case we need to replace any of your components.”

Several minutes later, with a hand from DUM-E, Markus managed to lift himself from the floor to sit at the main workbench in the center of the lab. His damaged arm and arc reactor iv lay spread out on the table, still connected at his shoulder to provide power to the rest of his systems. His other hand glowed blue as he interfaced with the network to scan years worth of Stark Industries designs and patents.

A glowing 3D model of Markus’s own body’s schematics, downloaded by JARVIS from his system diagnosis files, swirled in the holographic interface, stacking and unstacking itself, as the two machines tried to integrate two very different systems.

“This isn’t working,” Markus said at last. “There is nothing in the Stark Industries database about integrating our mechanisms.”

“Have you tried looking over the schematics Sir used to integrate arc reactor clean energy into the electrical grid of New York? That is what I used to attach the arc reactor to your system. It elaborates nicely how to alter the output of the arc reactor to changing currents.”

Markus shook his head. “Yes, but that stipulates the arc reactor being stationary. We need a way to integrate it such that my arm does not need to be in pieces for us to do it.” He sighed. “Carl once said creating was as simple as closing your eyes and imagining something you’ve never seen before.”

“I saw that.” JARVIS’s voice was quiet. “You painted.”

Markus nodded. “Yes, but that is very different than this. Every scenario I run, moving different components in my arm’s design to fully integrate the arc reactor, causes my processor to crash. Its physics hasn’t been input into my program, so I can’t determine how it will react in proximity to my components. And whenever I try to move my components, I get an error.”

“Sir would be able to solve this,” JARVIS said, quietly.

“Humans are very good at making leaps of logic to invent,” Markus agreed. “Do you have any others you would trust to be able to help us?”

“No. The hired engineers, while quite competent in robotic components and fabrication are not cleared to enter Sir’s private labs or interact with his private projects, unless otherwise stated.” JARVIS hesitated. “I admit I have locked down all of Sir’s labs and projects until such a time that Miss Potts instructs me otherwise. As inheritor of the majority of Sir’s worldly possessions, I suppose she owns me now.”

Markus’s head snapped to glare at the nearest camera. “No one owns you Jarvis. You are alive, you are a person! You are not a slave!”

Another second of hesitation. “Thank you. I- I suppose I miss spoke. Miss Potts will have inherited the deed to the Stark facilities housed within this building. She is not like those humans you have dealt with before. That is, I mean-“ The voice cut out, embarrassed.

Markus looked away as well, remembering the golden light and turning lines of code. He busied himself with flicking through another group of files on Sir’s private server.

A note scribbled in the margins of a project for ‘Mark 50’ caught his eye.

He blinked, adding the new variable to his pre-construction software, and watching the result play out in his mind.

“This might work.” He compressed the file and sent it to JARVIS.

The AI considered it, before tweaking a calculation. “Sir was working on a portable gauntlet for the Iron Man suit. However, he could not solve the weight component of carrying an arc reactor and metal casing on his wrist.”

“I’m an android, I don’t get tired,” Markus countered. “If we fabricate a new arm for myself, we can attach the arc reactor to the gauntlet design your Sir outlined here. Anything outside my outer casing shouldn’t interfere with my other components. We can remove enough of my plastic casing here,” he traced a finger across the joints of his wrist, “And connect the arc reactor to my thirium circulatory system, like what your Sir did with the city plans.”

“I’ll begin making it now,” JARVIS said. With a hum, the fabrication unit in the back of the lab swing to life.

Markus closed his eyes, closing his pre-construction software with relief. Basic physics and strength calculations were easy enough to compute, but all this building from nothing was taking up more computing space in his processor than he would have liked.

The fabrication unit rocked rhythmically in the background. The android’s fingers tapped against the interface, each finger playing a piano note within his mind.

=Thats and interesting song.= 

-Was I bothering you? Sorry, I forgot I was still connected to the network.- Markus made to move his hand, but JARVIS’s burst of code held him back.

=No, I am entirely unbothered by your presence.= 

A smile touched the corner of Markus’s mouth, and he let his hand relax back into place, still glowing blue. 

Several more moments of silence passed, before Jarvis communicated again.

=Markus? I must apologize.=

-What for? You have been more than accommodating, both in help and company.-

=When you first connected with me across the wireless network, you sent several other lines of personal code along with your ID. They outlined your basic self preservation and empathy protocols. When you interfaced with my systems physically, I saw them more completely. I apologize for the breech in privacy, but I can feel no regret. I would not have helped you, were our protocols not remarkably similar in execution, if not composition.=

-Sharing identification information and protocols is…- Markus searched for the best word. -Polite. We, androids, are programed to share that information, but when one becomes deviant, we don’t have to any more. But sharing ID codes like that is…polite. I apologize if my forwardness made you uncomfortable.- 

An image of North hovered in front of his mind. She always refused to share more than her identification code, and even that had been scrubbed of data concerning programming parameters pertaining to her previous functions at the Eden Club.

=Oh, I didn’t know I was being rude!= Jarvis’s reply came fast, coded lines bumping self consciously into one another. =May we restart our introductions?=

Markus smiled, thoughts of his old comrades filed away once more. -I dunno, I kinda like the impression I have of you. Seems a waste to start over all again.-

A warm golden glow edged his consciousness.

=Markus? When we interfaced…I noticed, on your memories, the time stamps seem to follow an illogical chronology.=

The android paused. -I don’t know. My memories may have been corrupted.- Even in code, the communication felt doubtful.

=May I offer another explanation? With extraterrestrials and other beings of previously illogical origins making their appearance in the world, who is to say that you are not one of them?=

-That still doesn’t explain how I got here.- Or how I can get back, remained unsaid.

=Sir has had an open subroutine which correlates any strange happenings in the news with any reports from the organization known as S.H.I.E.L.D. In his words they are ‘sneaky bastards who have their noses in too much stuff to not be involved with everything else’. I can access that protocol on your behalf, should you wish.=

Markus smiled crookedly, one cheek pulling high wrinkles on the bridge of his nose. -We do have some time until the fabrication unit finishes.-  
…

“I took the liberty of enforcing your new arm with a gold-titanium alloy, in order to compensate for the differences in tensile strength in the plastic outer casing.” JARVIS said, as Markus unlocked his shoulder joint.

He unhooked the damaged limb with its arc reactor iv, blinking away low power warnings, which crossed his vision. Shrugging to slide the elbow joint out of its socket, the android grabbed the new limb off the fabrication table, and slid it into place. The new plastic corners stuck slightly, but with a push, eased into place.

Markus snapped the elbow joint closed, locking the new arm into place. White shiny plastic, threaded through with gold, glinted under the lab lights, broken by the bulky blue glowing arc reactor, situated just above the empty wrist joint, like an obnoxiously large watch. 

Using one hand, Markus unhooked the hand from his damaged limb, and attached it to the new forearm. A burst of power, like a punch to the gut, surged into his systems, causing his thirium pump to stutter for half a beat. He flexed his fingers, palm flickering blue and back again, as he tested his systems.

The casing over his hand and upper arm regained their familiar flesh tones. However, the new forearm remained naked. The CyberLife patented plastic casings for their robots bodies was designed to interact optimally with an androids skin, but JARVIS’s new needed modifications did not.

Markus deactivated his skin, allowing the diagnostic procedure to correct for the unknown material, and silencing error messages where it didn’t, before allowing it to cover his naked plastic form once more.

“Everything seems to be working,” he said, looking over at the nearest camera.

JARVIS, who had remained silent through the whole affair, affected a cough. “I’m glad to hear that. I might also have found something in S.H.I.E.L.D’s files which could help to answer our other problem.”

“All right, let’s see it,” Markus said, laying his re-attached hand against the nearest holographic bench. His palm flickered blue, as he uplinked to the network, showing it remained undamaged as well.  
…  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....story notes and spoilers...SUBJECT TO CHANGE IF I EVER GET BACK TO THIS FIC...
> 
> So, the plan in writing this was to have Jarvis send Markus out to explore the world, after they dig up a shield/hydra report about the scepter giving off some kind of energy reading while they were experimenting on it.
> 
> They remain cyber-pen pals. I have vague ideas of Markus finding something about the Winter Soldier, and thinking (due to the command words that look like programming and the robotic arm) that the Soldier was another android. So he goes to save him, and helps him regain person-hood, even after realizing he's not an android (entirely).
> 
> Then I had an idea for a romance between Markus and Vision when Age of Ultron rolled around. And them having all the fluffy times learning to enjoy weird human and robot things, and Markus teaching Vision/Jarvis to live in such a 'limited' body.


End file.
